Countless
by Putting on Airs
Summary: They couldn't stand the other for more than a moment or two, but the moments kept happening. Added up, it was more than the other could keep track of. It was fabulous; it was terrible; and more importantly, it was something that wouldn't go away. Romeo and Juliet were a joke compared to them. Though, despite it all, they actually didn't mind it.
1. The First

**The First **

* * *

_"You are probably the grossest human I have ever met," Bumper said with a slur to his words and his chest puffed out more than usual. Bumper Allen was a star and everyone had a right to know. _

_With a cock of her hips and a jut of her chin, Amy retorted, "You're no panty dropper yourself," and Bumper was practically relishing in her thick accent as she spoke. This was the catalyst for them both, this was their undoing for the rest of the night. But, Jesus, if that really was the case, he would hand her the tools to break him._

_"I have a feeling we should kiss." He popped back on his heels, refusing to break eye contact. Amy was tempted to take him up on his offer, but even more tempted to beat him into a pulp. Watching her lack of response, Bumper faltered a moment, "Is...that a good feeling?" He didn't want to give her an opening to deny him that so he did himself, "Or an incorrect feeling?" _Proper grammar, _he mentally fist pumped, _chicks dig that.

_Her obvious pause was enough to make him scream in frustration. "Well..." Amy obviously knew her power right now and she knew how to tease. "Sometimes, I have the feeling I can do crystal meth," she puts a finger to her chin in sarcastic contemplation, "but then I think, 'mmm, better not'." _

_With a slightly disgraced nod and 'yeah' shared by the two, the conversation stopped and Bumper didn't even feel bad when he wished she was a crack head strictly for tonight._

* * *

It was definitely cold out, and he was definitely drunk.

Otherwise, Bumper would never have hit on The Bella's fat chick. He was _so _above that, even if she did have a huge rack (_A huge everything, _he told himself as she walked away). Besides she was with The Bella's. The Bella's were uppity snobs anyway who choked on their own vomit (quite literally). They weren't even remotely in the same league as him and his Treblemakers.

There was no doubt in his mind that the cheap beer and obvious college hormones that seemed just so damned attracted to his awesomeness that caused that lapse in his nearly impeccable judgement. It was common knowledge that Bumper Allen could have any girl on campus he wanted (That just didn't include girls who shot him down.) and it didn't phase him that just _one_ of The Bella's blew him off. It was practically a blessing that she didn't take him seriously, he didn't need that kind of commitment holding him down like a ball and chain.

That's exactly what he tried to convince himself of as a slow smile grew on his face. Somewhere inside the greatness that is Bumper Allen, a switch turned on:

_Let the games begin, Bella._

(Bumper Allen was nothing if not original.)

* * *

_Countless © Putting on Airs_

_Pitch Perfect © Mickey Rapkin & Kay Cannon_


	2. The Second

_**A/N: Right, so. I am going to say this is definitely AU because, obviously, the two have little to no screen time together and it makes me want to sob. So, yeah, god didn't I put that eloquently? Nope. NopetyNopeNope. So yup AU of Fat Amy and Bumper being sarcastic assholes to each other. **_

_**Fabulous.**_

* * *

**The Second**

* * *

_Bumper remembered it the next time he saw her, and how fucking hardcore she seemed. He had learned her name by then (_Know thy enemyth? [What the fuck ever; Bumper Allen was too cool for that shit] it went something like that_.) She was blonde raw energy and bad ass, that was, until, he saw her in the biggest snoozefest he has ever seen. He had passed a number of buildings on his way to the bar, you know, the new one where only the coolest guys went, when he saw her. The campus' library seemed to catch his eye though, and, more specifically, something inside the window. _

_The Australian was actually _studying_. In the library. __(_It was times like these Bumper Allen remembered his own so not-awesome grades; it was easy to forget this was an actual college._) _

_Bumper tried to get a glimpse of the boo(_b_)k from the window, but that was a long ass way. No, Mr. Allen was going in...the library. As he pranced his way over, he saw Amy as she was, a hot babe. __He could have said that girl was fine but as the lady herself would undoubtedly tell you, she was a - _Woman_, he noted to himself, looking over Fat Amy, _definitely a woman_. He wanted to scoff, taunt, whatever kind of term a literary major could spit out, and tell himself that this was even more stupid than 'Herrrr should we kiss?' the last time they met._

_And thus, began the ever-remembered clusterfuck.  
_

* * *

"What are you doing here, hobbit?" She didn't even look up from the textbook to see if the swipe had actually made an impact.

Bumper swears later he didn't even try to puff out his chest, but Amy swears on pizza he preened like an exotic bird. Popping his 'fancy' (_that was Treble code for 'clean_') shirts collar, he cocked an eyebrow, "Well, you see it's this revolutionary thing where, awesome people like me, actually come to libaries to read words." _Smooth Bumper,_ only barely suppressing the urge to shoot up and prance with pride. He was just too great at life, he should have an A plus hiding somewhere on his body like a stamp.

Which is why he couldn't help but grin as she finally looks up from her lame book (_The History of Beethoven: Condensed; Bumper Allen would say he was a million times cooler than that relic but, honestly, zero multiplied by one million is still zero_.)

"Please tell me you did not just say 'libaries'." She wasn't begging, she was demanding. Fat Amy was did not beg. She was a fierce bitch and she knew it. It was hot.

His mouth was between an open-mouthed scoff and a smug grin. Plan Blackhawk was a success, and he was not about to let her get away any time soon. "Excuse moi?" Placing a hand to his chest he locked her glare with his own, and cocking his head in a feigned ignorance, "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Australia."

Her eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline on his last comment, either in disgust or disbelief, he wasn't sure. All he knew for sure was that Fat Amy was totally focused _on him._ And that was fucking _divine_.

"You've got to be kidding me." She already scooted her chair back and was poking him in the chest, personal space be damned, she had lived with aboriginals long enough to make a band and when that happened you learned to get over those things quickly. "It's a '_library', _you git. Did you only just start reading or did the kindergarten section just run out of picture books again?"

(_Bumper wasn't sure which head was getting more blood right now._)

"I love it when you talk dirty."

A few minutes later, Bumper Allen was on his way to the new bar again, with the added accessory of bruised cheek.

* * *

_Countless © Putting on Airs_

_Pitch Perfect © Mickey Rapkin & Kay Cannon_


	3. The Bruise

**A/N: Well, just a friendly reminder, I DO NOT BITE. Reviews, PM's and all that are very welcome. Like, more welcome than you could ever understand. Me and my books have nothing else we look forward to more than your criticism, compliments, hate, whatever. I love all of you who dare take the time to even look at this. **

**You guys are beautiful people and thank you so much. **

* * *

**The Bruise**

* * *

It had been six days since he last saw her. The mark she left had only just faded to a faint red and it almost made him sad. Not really though, because Bumper Allen was better than that and didn't get sad over stuff like that. He didn't do the chick flick scene. Ever _(Unless clingy was the new sexy [which it wasn't.] he wasn't into that shit)._

When Jesse began asking about the bruise, Bumper couldn't begin trying to explain it with all his followers watching so closely. It would ruin him. What was a hero to do?

Puffing out his chest _(his trademark),_ "I got in a bar fight. The guy was a total douche, so I beat his ass."

_Answer: Lie. Lie like a fucking bear skin rug on some rich dudes floor and pray like the Pope jacked up on mountain dew._

No one was buying it for a minute. Then, another similar thought raced through his mind. "Honest to god, his name was Jensen and he was such a major tool!"

The little voice in his head kept going though:_ Put some lie on that lie._

"He was a wife-beater wearing dick, you know the type. He was killing everyone's buzz, man!" Bumper Allen was not getting anxious, nervous, or anything of the sort. No, he was just getting a little hot, that's why he was pulling on his collar. Someone needed to turn the AC up in this bitch; except, it was kinda (a lot-a) winter. But let it be known that Bumper, the magnificent, awe-inspiring singer, was nowhere near nervous.

_YO DAWG, I HERD YOU LIKE TO LIE. SO I PUT SOME MORE LIES IN YO LIE SO YOU CAN LIE WHILE YOU LIE._

For once, Bumper Allen's wonderful charisma could not dig him out of this hole.

* * *

_Countless © Putting on Airs_

_Pitch Perfect © Mickey Rapkin __& Kay Cannon_


	4. Il Terzo

**Il Terzo**

* * *

_Becca had to admit, it was a desperate attempt from an equally desperate woman. Apparently, Denise's '__**hunter' **__was hungry and she had already gone through_ (*insert sultry tone here*) _'all the tote's hot guys here and He wants some fresh meat'. That being the case, meant that Denise had to actually find some guys from off campus. The easiest way for bomb-shells like Denise, was definitely not the easiest way for the rest of the Barden Bellas. _

_It was almost like saying a dirty, or forbidden word in Becca's mind. She wasn't even allowed to say the word at the radio station without Luke having her re-stack the entirety of the top shelves by genre, name, and year, on pure principal. _

_**Speed dating. **_

_Yet, as stated before, desperation was a dangerous thing indeed, and Denise was positively dripping with it. Her hunter was starving and expected 'moral support'. Unfortunately, no one was willing to play wing-bitch except Cynthia Rose _(and everyone knew _that_ wasn't going to work out well...). _Like mature adults, they then decided to settle it like, as previously noted, mature adults._

_"One, two, three...Shoot!" _

_"Paper beats rock! Umph! Bitches can't say shit!" _

_"Um_ Amy?"

_"What?"_

_"I was the one who played paper."_

_A moment of silence took over the room for a minute as Fat Amy looked at both her and Becca's hands. It was a nerve wrecking moment for Becca _(she _really _didn't want to explain to her Dad why she was going to a speed dating thing for a friend on study night, even if it was just for moral support) _as she studied Fat Amy's face. _

_"Well..."_

_That blank look on Amy's face meant this could go really well or similar to the events of the Halloween series and it would be Haddonfield, Illinois all over again. The group held their breath and watched as Fat Amy blinked. _

_Amy looked up and frowned, "Shit."_

* * *

_Bumper Allen was not here for the advertised 'find your soul mate, at Soul-Date™!' bull shit that all these other dopey eyed loser's were. Oh, no, no, no. Bumper was doing something much more 'exciting' than that. He was going to be here watching Unicycle and be moral support for when Unicycle got shotdown. Fan-fucking-tastic way to spend his Saturday, right? He could be painting that town a shade of red that would make cherries jealous, but noooooo. He was stuck at Soul-Date™ babysitting one of his Treblemakers like it was junior high all over again._

_Except, this time, he was babysitting for free_.

* * *

About two hours, seven shots of 'African on Acid' and three bottles of really cheap beer, Bumper Allen was one shitfaced mofo.

Three shots in, he was a male model for Calvin Kleins new underwear line.

Two more shots and he was an astronaut who loved grilled cheese sandwiches.

Two again, and he was a part-time spy in the british government (_for a while, he spoke british, like, he was all 'ello gov'na' and 'you yankees neva were one fo' a good spot o' tea')_.

The last two he poured down his shirt because 'wet t-shirt contest biii'chesss'. No one actually took him on his offer but that was okay. 'Cause Bumps boobs were the best ever. Like for realsies.

For the next thirty minutes to 4 hours, the bartender was Bumpers best friend.

"Ya' know what, man? We're just fish. That's all we are, even engineers. We're just fish and we gotta keep swimmin'," Bumper explained with the kind of sobriety only a drunk people could reach, all the while latching to the man's arm.

"Do ya' know what I'm sayin' Harry?" He paused suddenly unsure, "Ronald?" No, that was like, totes prob not it. "Butch?" A slow grin clambored over his face. "Yaaa, yer a Butch!"

The older man shook his head and pushed the boy off. "Mah' names Nick, kid."

Whateva. Bumper knew he was a Butch.

* * *

Halfway across the restraunt, Denise was hunting like she was Elmer Fudd in Duck season and Amy could not help but impressed as she looked at the other women shooting daggers at Denise in jealousy.

Suddenly a large crash of glass, akin to something out of the movies, sounded from the bar. Looking over in mild interest, Amy's jaw dropped at the sight of it.

_It _being that gnome from the library was standing on the bar, heavy-set in his air guitar solo yelling obscurities at the man behind him cleaning dishes. Amy had never seen such an exasperated face.

Catching Denises eye, Amy motioned to the door in an obvious manner, both thus began their perilous trek back to the dorm until-

* * *

**_Okay! Two parter maybe? Sorry For earlieR! I kinda posted the early draft! Please forgive my tardiness on the update, and have a fantastic day._**

* * *

_Contless © Putting on Airs_

_Pitch Perfect © Mickey Rapkin & Kay Cannon_


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